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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23862901">It's the Old Stuff that I Can't Get Out of My Head</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quipplepunk/pseuds/Quipplepunk'>Quipplepunk</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Sirius Black [6]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Flashbacks, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Nightmares, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sleep Deprivation, Walburga Black's A+ Parenting, sitting on a roof</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 00:12:24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,664</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23862901</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quipplepunk/pseuds/Quipplepunk</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Sirius's nightmares keep him awake. A sleep deprived conversation leads him to share with Remus some of his traumatic memories of the abuse he experienced while living with his parents. What troubles him most, though, is why he isn't more upset about the circumstances that led to him leaving home and living with the Potters.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Sirius Black &amp; Remus Lupin</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Sirius Black [6]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1709893</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>55</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>It's the Old Stuff that I Can't Get Out of My Head</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>A fact: Depending on who or what is referenced, a PTSD diagnosis comes out of three or four categories that are made up of groupings of symptoms. Re-experiencing trauma, avoidance, and hyper-arousal are the categories that are most frequently cited. The fourth sometimes added is negative cognitions. <br/>Re-experiencing trauma can include nightmares. Sometimes nightmares are of the traumatic event. Often times, however, the dreams are hard to recall but elicit the same emotions the person had experienced during and after the traumatic event. Other forms of re-experiencing trauma comprise of flashbacks and frightening intrusive thoughts.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>By the time James, Remus, and Peter enter the dorm room that evening, Sirius is shut up in his bed. His curtains are drawn and locked into place by modified sticking charms. Sirius also cast silencing charms both to prevent noise from escaping the confines of his bed but also to keep noise from reaching him from the outside. Sirius revels in the isolation. 
</p><p>Sirius doesn’t revel in the broken sleep that comes to him. 
</p><p><em>Searing pain sinks into Sirius’s forearm, then the back of his neck. Sirius chokes on smells similar to copper, charcoal, and sulfur. Maniacal laughter rings out, bouncing off the walls.</em> Sirius wakes with the image of the fireplace in Grimmauld Place imprinted on the back of his eyes. He feels small and immobile. He’s covered in sweat. He is cold.</p><p><em>Sirius tastes metal. A crunching pop radiates through his body. A shock wave of pain washes over him and settles in his knee. He’s crying. He sees Regulus wearing a panicked look. He sees Walburga, expressionless. He is dizzy and sees the stairs leading to the front door of Grimmauld Place.  “Pull yourself together child. I’ve healed it.” Then, “Go to your room until you can control yourself.”</em> Sirius gasps as he wakes, grabbing his throbbing knee. A sense of abandonment is nestled deep in his chest. There are tears streaking his face.</p><p>
  <em>The dark greens and faded blacks in the sitting room of Grimmauld Place swirl in Sirius’s mind. The piano. The antique arm chairs. The bulky oak desk. “Are you truly this unbelievably stupid or are you trying to manipulate me into locking you in your room again?” Orion’s voice circles in Sirius’s head. “If you give another shameful performance such as this, you’ll not eat until the next.” The voices are relentless. Walburga now, “You need to do more to prove that you belong in this family.”</em>
</p><p>When Sirius awakens from that particular nightmare, he feels angry. Checking the time, 3:40am, he roughly rolls to his other side. Then he flips to his stomach. Then to his back. Then he tears the covers off of himself and pitches them hard against the curtains. He growls and grunts and groans. Sleep escapes him for the rest of the night. 
</p><p>At least he didn’t need the silencing charms tonight. 
</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>***</p>
</div><p>Distractions like essays, tests, and lectures are plentiful. For Sirius, trauma-brain tends to get caught in loops of disturbing memories around sunset. In the day time, he is required to be around people; classes, meals, breaks, the school is always swarming with people. Solitude is hard to come by in the daylight. 
</p><p>As comforting as seclusion is, as overwhelming as crowds are, being alone is always a double-edged sword. Sirius craves the sort of peace that comes with being alone. At first, there is relief and calm. He feels safe. But then, as the sky darkens, so does Sirius’s mind. 
</p><p>Once isolated, Sirius finds it difficult to pull himself back to reality, to pull himself out of the trauma-brain loops. When interrupted, he feels angry. He lashes out at his friends. He feels guilty. He is ashamed. He’s sad. 
</p><p>“Is this gonna be a thing now?” Remus says, crawling out the window of the dorm onto the eaves. 
</p><p>“Why does everything have to be a thing with you guys?” Sirius says, exasperated. 
</p><p>Remus doesn’t say anything. He sits next to Sirius and they watch the sky fade to black. 
</p><p>“Remus,” Sirius says after a while. “Do you have nightmares?” 
</p><p>“Yeah.” Sirius doesn’t reply. He doesn’t look at Remus. “They’re mostly about things I’m afraid I’ll do as the wolf,” Remus offers. 
</p><p>Sirius nods, still staring blankly into the night. In his mind, Remus rehearses many delicately phrased questions, several consoling phrases of empathy and support, but can’t bring himself to speak. Sirius’s mood exudes a sort of sadness that is all-encompassing and paralyzing. Remus feels almost reverence for that heavy aura. 
</p><p>But then, Sirius starts to giggle. 
</p><p>“What’re you laughing about?” Remus eyes Sirius suspiciously. 
</p><p>Sirius grins and says, “I don’t know!” He curls in, holding his stomach through a hearty fit of laughter. 
</p><p>Remus can’t help but smirk at the sight. “Careful. You could fall off the roof.”
</p><p>Sirius collects himself and clears his throat. He leans back against the window. “Aaahhh, Moony,” he says, smiling and looking at the sky. After a pause, he adds, “I’m really tired.” 
</p><p>“Oh, yeah? Didn’t sleep last night?”
</p><p>“Caught a few winks, but,” Sirius’s face falls. He shakes his head. Remus nods and sighs. After a few moments, though, Sirius starts giggling again. He looks at Remus with a wide smile. 
</p><p>“What?” Remus says, smiling back. 
</p><p>“I don’t know,” Sirius says. His giggles are more contained than they were at first. “I think I’m, like, sleep drunk. You know?” 
</p><p>“Oh. Yeah. I get that.” And Remus does understand. 
</p><p>Sirius’s giggles eventually spread to Remus and soon the two are doubled over. Remus grasps the edge of the overhang with white knuckles, terrified of slipping off even as he gets lost in senseless happiness. When the laughter finally works its way out of their systems, the night is cooler and Sirius’s depression seems to have been pushed into submission for now. Silence settles over them like strands of silk. 
</p><p>“Remus?” Sirius says, almost dreamily. 
</p><p>“Hm?”
</p><p>“What happened this past summer…” 
</p><p>“Yeah?”
</p><p>“I don’t have nightmares about it.” Sirius takes in a slow, deep breath. “I barely even think about it, really. Just doesn’t bother me. I’m fine with it.” Sirius lulls his head onto his shoulder, leaning over to look at Remus with raised eyebrows. 
</p><p>“Uhm,” Remus says. “Well, that’s … ok.”
</p><p>“Yeah?” Sirius cranes his neck back to gaze into the sky once more. “Well, you all keep asking about it. And I’m starting to feel like I should feel worse about it than I do.”
</p><p>Sirius’s words sink painfully into Remus’s heart. “I’m sorry, Sirius,” Remus says softly. “You don’t ever have to talk about anything you don’t want to talk about. And there’s no right or wrong way to feel about something. So, it’s ok that you’re fine with it. You don’t have to feel worse about it.” Sirius doesn’t respond. He just stares up into the darkness. “We didn’t mean to make you feel bad for not talking about it, you know. We’re just concerned. We care about you.” 
</p><p>“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Sirius rolls his eyes. Under his breath, he says, “Caring the way you do is annoying.” 
</p><p>Remus isn’t sure he heard Sirius. He knows better than to ask Sirius to repeat himself. Before Remus can decide what to say, Sirius turns around on the small portion of roof he was sitting on. He lowers himself over the edge of the eaves and dangles, then drops the extra two feet onto the roof below him. Remus clutches his heart, eyes wide, unable to speak, as he watches Sirius maneuver about. 
</p><p>“Bloody hell,” Remus finally manages to blurt out. Holding on tightly to the roof, Remus leans forward a little. “Sirius! How do you think you’re going to get back up here? You could have gotten hurt!” Sirius smirks and shrugs. He walks away from Remus, along the side of the building. “Sirius!” Remus hisses, fully aware that he’s yelling outside of everyone’s dorm room in the middle of night. “Get back here!” When Sirius is out of sight, Remus mumbles, “Oh, fuck it all,” and as gracefully as possible, he lowers himself onto the roof below. His descent wasn’t graceful. But it was quiet. Remus traces Sirius’s path and finds him sitting against a stone turret. Remus sits down next to Sirius, and follows his gaze. They’re looking out over Hogsmeade. 
</p><p>“No one ever saved me before,” Sirius says, his words a little slurred from pure exhaustion. 
</p><p>“Before what?” 
</p><p>“Before James. Before Hogwarts. No one ever told me that it was going to be ok.” Remus studies Sirius’s face. It’s mostly blank, hard to read. Sirius goes on, “Burned me. Starved me. Beat me. Locked me in my room.” He pauses. Sirius looks directly into Remus’s eyes as he says, “I was abused, you know.” Remus just nods. Sirius looks back to the town. “I dream about all of that. I don’t know why. It happened so long ago.” Sirius turns to face Remus. “Why is that, Moony? Why is it the old stuff that I can’t get out of my head? It’s driving me crazy.” 
</p><p>Remus’s chest hurts from the empathy he’s experiencing. “I’m not really sure, Padfoot.” Sirius’s face shows deep lines of old hurt. “Maybe it’s because it’s been in your head longer. Like, the memories are worn deeper into your brain than the newer stuff.”
</p><p>Sirius averts his gaze, taking in Remus’s thought. Sirius’s breath is shallow, but steady. His eyes begin to drift side to side. “No one helped,” he says slowly. Remus clenches his jaw. He reaches out and puts a hand on Sirius’s shoulder. “When I got kicked out,” Sirius looks bewildered and exasperated. “It was… it was horrible, what they did. Just horrible.” Remus nods and gives Sirius’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. “But it wasn’t that bad,” Sirius’s eyes fall on Remus. Sirius is speaking slowly, each word a struggle to articulate clearly. The bags under his eyes stand out plainly. “I mean,” Sirius truly does sound drunk, “it was bad, but like, it wasn’t… I don’t feel bad about it still. I still feel bad about the other stuff. Why?” 
</p><p>Sirius’s strained expression and desperate tone makes it so that Remus needs to blink back tears. “I don’t know why, Sirius,” Remus eventually gathers himself enough to say. 
</p><p>Sirius turns away from Remus, moving so that Remus needs to let his touch on Sirius’s shoulder fall away. Sirius leans against the stone turret and closes his eyes. A long, sad-soaked moment passes. Then Sirius says, “Why am I telling you all of this?”
</p><p>“You’re sleep deprived.”
</p><p>“Oh. Yeah.”</p>
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